Decisions Regarding Opinions
by N7Dragon5
Summary: Hawke's tried forever to get Fenris to like her. But when he takes her gift-peace offering, more like-the wrong way, he'll do his best to correct his mistake in whatever way he can. Sorry for sucky title and possibly sucky story, finished in about ten or twenty minutes. A bit of a "read this while I finish other stuff" gift for my dear friend scatmaan. Enjoy, R&R please!


The walk through Lowtown was surprisingly quiet, considering the large number of thugs that had been roaming about mere nights before. The only reason Hawke still dared to wander its streets at night, despite "a friend's" reassurance that the gangs would hardly be a problem, was because she'd seen something within the Alienage, something that had to have a little bit of value, sentimental or otherwise. She walked down the steps towards the separate elven homes—the fact that it and the city itself could be so different was both astonishing and saddening—with her staff drawn, moving towards one of the corners near the steps. In that corner stood a little sack, nearly empty save for some things that were no doubt trash and a rectangular object, dull edges visible through the linen. She opened it with care, afraid the sound of the pull string rubbing against the sack would awaken the lighter sleepers of the Alienage, as improbable as it may be. She reached in, ignoring the sludge and broken bits of trash that had been haphazardly tossed in, and found her prize, pulling it out carefully and taking a moment to study it.

She found herself in the possession of a large tome, very old and leather bound. Opening the cover, she discovered "A Slave's Life" written in large black letters on the first page. She'd heard of this tome, and to confirm her thoughts she leafed through the pages to learn that this was indeed the book written by Shartan. She wondered why anyone would throw such a book away, but that didn't matter much. She had no use for it, but she knew someone who might be interested in it. The only issue was, she wasn't exactly sure if he would appreciate it.

Fenris had given her the evil eye for a long time without really telling her why. The fact that she was a mage should've been irrelevant after three years. She brought him everywhere, did everything she could to keep him from disapproving, but just when she thought she'd earned his trust, he'd grunt and groan in protest to something she did or said. That man was so indecisive to her, but she still tried with everything she possibly could to get on his good side, as much as it rarely worked. They were hardly friends, but she refused to admit that they were rivals. Maybe this book would help?

In her excitement, Hawke held the book to her chest and ran to Hightown, eager to grant Fenris with this peace offering. The gangs were in short supply there, too, thanks to Hawke's dire need for safe passage alone on those sleepless nights. In fact, had she been able to sleep then, she'd be doing that instead of dashing to her companion's home in the middle of the night. She ran up several stairs and around several corners until she reached Fenris' mansion door. She gave herself a few minutes to catch her breath completely before opening the door, making a note to herself to tell Fenris to install a decent lock. With his technical lack of freedom, having an open door was dangerous.

From the doorway she could tell Fenris was still awake, the glow from the fireplace still bright from across the house. She took the book from her chest and allowed herself a moment to look at it, to admire the elegant designs on its leather spine. She hoped this would mend her relationship with Fenris. It had to.

Fenris had heard the door open and close, but he barely believed it. No one bothered to come to his mansion, never mind in the middle of the night. Even if Hawke were to come, it was always during the day, whether or not she was alone. But after a slight pause, a brief silence, the footsteps he heard coming toward and up the stairs corrected his beliefs.

Hawke peeked her head into the doorway and knocked on the wall, wordlessly asking permission to come in. Fenris stood from the bench in the middle of the room and nodded, desperately trying to resist the urge to narrow his eyes in suspicion. This was a mage, one who helped other mages escape templar eyes. Despite her constant murder of slavers and those associated with them, helping those with arcane abilities was almost like helping the ones who'd collared him in the first place.

Hawke stepped out from behind the wall and into the door way almost cautiously, holding something behind her back with one hand while she propped up her staff with the other. The staff steadily against the wall, she moved closer towards him, stopping mere feet away.

"I'm sorry if I'm bothering you," she started, looking down at the floor. "I know it's late, but I saw a light through the window, and…" The fact that she was so nice, so considerate, towards him didn't help him choose whether or not he liked her. He was determined not to consider her in any way a friend, but the way she acted almost made him feel that way.

"What do you want, Hawke?" he asked coolly. She looked up at him then, shock and a little bit of hurt in her eyes. She blinked, any trace of reaction to his words disappearing. Then she shifted her weight from one leg to the other before looking at him again.

"I…have something for you." This time, he let his eyes narrow. Why would she bring anything to him? She brought her hands in front of her to present a tome, large and bound in black leather. His heart sank a little. Is she truly stupid, or is this a cruel joke?

"It's…it's a book." Hawke nodded, looking down at the tome with uncertainty—or perhaps it was fear?—in her eyes.

"It's by Shartan; the elf who helped Andraste free the slaves. You've heard of him, right?" she wanted to know, eyes meeting his.

"Of course I have! What kind of fool do you take me for?" The hurt returned, etched into the light in her eyes and the lines of her face. "Bah, it doesn't matter. Slaves are not permitted to read. I've never learned." The hurt was replaced by slight surprise, mixed with a hint of regret and understanding.

"Oh. Well…well, it's not too late to learn, Fenris," she replied with a smile. He glared at her, insulted.

"Ah, is that what this is, some kind of joke? 'Let's teach the poor slave to read?'" Hawke's eyes widened in shock, her hands gripping the book harder.

"No, I…I never said—"

"You didn't have to. I am no fool, I know enough to realize when I'm being mocked."

"Fenris, I-I didn't mean to—"

"To what? To show me one more reason I am inadequate, unfit for the world of the free? Is that what you didn't mean to do? Because it looks like you succeeded in making just that happen."

"I never said any of that!" Silence for a moment. Hawke's words hung in the air, the surprising amount of pain and anger in her voice forcing Fenris to ignore his own rage. When Hawke blinked, her eyes glimmered and water started to pool in the edges. "I…never said that," she said softly. She blinked again, a drop of water managing to escape her eye. She wiped it away with the sleeve of her robes, then forced herself to look down at the floor. "I was just," she audibly swallowed, "just trying to be nice. That's all. I just…wanted to help." She bent over and placed the book on the table, next to a half-full bottle of Pavali. "You can still have it though. Maybe," she took another moment to sniff, "maybe you can teach yourself. I…I'm sorry I offended you. I'll try not to let it happen again." Wiping her eyes again, she turned and left, forgetting her staff and leaving him to deal with both of their words.

He believed her to be stronger than that. Strong enough to have resistance against words. Was she simply weak, or was it his own fault for taking it in a way that hurt her so? Her expression, shock and pain and anger, was burned into his mind, making his heart drop to his stomach. He hated to admit it even to himself, but…he was wrong, the way he reacted. "I'm sorry I offended you. I'll try not to let it happen again." Even after all that, all of the harsh accusations just thrown in her face, she was the one to apologize. She took the blame. That wasn't how it should've been. That shouldn't have happened.

He simply stood there, a feeling of guilt starting to creep into his heart shortly after the front door opened and closed, confirming Hawke's departure from the mansion. After sitting back down on the bench, taking a drink from his wine bottle, he looked at the book and his regret grew. He picked it up and opened to a random page, flipping through the paper and looking at the letters written upon it, seeing them as pointless blobs of ink, meaningless symbols. Shartan was a great elven hero. He fought for his freedom, and eventually secured it by allying with who he could. In a way, Fenris was the same. He wanted to learn more, but he couldn't. He didn't have the ability to.

Slamming the book closed, he took a long drink of his wine until it was empty. Then he stood, tome still in hand, and began to walk out, taking Hawke's staff with him. It was odd to hold a mage's weapon, but knowing it was Hawke's was almost…reassuring? He wasn't sure. With both the book—the gift—and the staff in his hands, he took long, brisk strides out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the mansion, stepping into the cold Kirkwall night. He walked towards the Hawke estate, doing his best to keep the staff from scratching the cold stone floors of Hightown. The trek didn't take long, what with Hawke's home being in such close proximity to his, and when he walked in the little hallway in front of the door, he hesitated to knock.

What if he was being foolish? It was possible he did have a soft spot for Hawke after all, and he was simply trying to fix it despite the fact that he had been right to say the things he did? No, no he was definitely wrong in his words. He put the book under his arm and held the staff with his other hand, and knocked on the door.

He was greeted by Bodahn, who had a bit of concern in his expression. He asked Fenris to come in, an offer he accepted with no pause; he was eager to get out of the cold of night. Fenris followed the dwarf to his post.

"Hawke…is she here?"

"Messere Hawke is in her room. She seemed rather upset when she came in, though I'm not really sure why." Bodahn pointed to the staff in Fenris' hands. "I assume it has something to do with that?"

"I…yes. I came to return it to her," Fenris lied. He was never good at lying.

"Well, like I said, she's in her room, though I'm not certain she'll respond. She refused to tell me anything when I asked." Fenris thought on this for a moment. Was Hawke too upset to speak of it—a more likely answer—or was she trying to defend him? This was a matter that would have to wait. He nodded his thanks to Bodahn, and turned to walk up the stairs that led to the second floor. He stood in front of Hawke's bedroom door for a long while, debating what he should say or do. He knocked on the door and was surprised to quickly receive a response.

"Fenris? What are you…?"

"I came to apologize. Is it…alright if I come in?" Hawke, her cheeks tear-stained, her eyes red, blinked in surprise.

"Um, sure. Yeah, here, I'll pull out the chair if you want." He mentally cursed her for being so kind, especially after the things he'd accused her of.

"No, it's alright." He walked further into the room, closing the door behind him with a kick. He took the book from under his arm with his free hand, leaving the staff in the other. He held it out to her. "You forgot this."

"Oh!" Her face lit up upon seeing her staff in his hands, and she took it from him almost immediately. "I knew I brought it with me. Thank you!" She smiled in delight, and she turned to prop the staff up against one of the bed posts. She turned to him again and sat down, leaving enough room for him to join her. He ignored the silent offer.

"I am…sorry, for all of the things I said back there, Hawke. I misinterpreted your intentions." Her eyes widened and she shoved her hands into her lap, unsure of what to do with them.

"No, you don't need to apologize. I should have been more sensitive with my words." He arched an eyebrow at the word "sensitive". "Or…no, not sensitive. Careful. Not that I feel that I need to tread lightly around you, but, what I mean is…" She groaned in frustration with herself. "My words were clumsily chosen." The way she tilted her head and lifted her shoulders, he could tell she was satisfied with the way that came out.

"Hawke, I am not going to argue with you about whose fault it is. That is not why I came here. I came here to apologize for taking your gesture the wrong way. That, and," he walked over to the bed and sat down next to her, holding out the book as if he were about to give it to her, "I was wondering if you would teach me. To read, I mean." Eyes wide again, she looked at him, then at the book, then back at him, almost as if she couldn't quite understand what he had just said. Then she smiled and held the book, though she didn't take it from him.

"Sure! It'll be fun! Though, I warn you now, I'm a horrid teacher." He smiled, still holding the book with her. It took him a moment to realize that Hawke had slipped her fingers just under his, the warmth of her touch seeping in even through the metal of his gauntlet. He lightened his grip and she took the book from him, tossing it farther onto the bed and standing up to guide him to the library where they could begin their lesson, mastering the letters of the alphabet and then getting to writing and reading the individual symbols.

It was hard to believe that it had taken him this long to get a solid opinion of her, to decide whether she was friend or foe. As they sat there at the desk in the library, though, her hand coming over his to teach him the proper way to hold a quill, how to curve it to make a letter, he could feel the tingling sensation where she touched him. Friend or foe was suddenly irrelevant. However it had happened, now he was stuck between friend and…something else.

For now, at least, he let it suffice to say that he liked her. Maybe he always had, but just didn't want to admit it to himself. Mage or no, she cared enough to protect him, listen to him, understand him. That was enough for him to like her. He decided for now, that was good enough.


End file.
